


Little Rabbit

by Suphomie



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Contracts, Deception, First Time, Isolation, M/M, Mystery, Prostitution, Secrets, Seduction, Smut, Theo is shady
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suphomie/pseuds/Suphomie
Summary: He wouldn’t have agreed to anything like this if he had options. His options, however, seemed to have dried up over the last few months. Between his dads medical bills ever piling up and him losing his job, his only, very limited form of income, signing a contract to spend two weeks subjecting himself to sex with some rich creep actually seemed like the most rational plan for his future. Just a testament to how screwed he currently is.
Relationships: Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	Little Rabbit

He wouldn’t have agreed to anything like this if he had options. His options, however, seemed to have dried up over the last few months. Between his dads medical bills ever piling up and him losing his job, his only, very limited form of income, signing a contract to spend two weeks subjecting himself to sex with some rich creep actually seemed like the most rational plan for his future. Just a testament to how screwed he currently is. 

Now, though, watching the trees whoosh by through the car window for the last three hours, this doesn’t seem like his best idea. He glances once more at the driver, who hasn’t said a word the entire trip. As the hours tick by with no sign of any civilization, this is starting to feel more and more like a ploy to be murdered in the middle of the woods.

Maybe it is. It certainly came out of nowhere, just as he started to get really desperate. But when someone claiming their an assistant of a very wealthy man who’s seeking some “company” at their estate up North, it’s hard to turn down. Especially since the amount of money she offered is enough to not only pay off his dad’s bills, but to sustain himself for at least a year.

He should’ve sought out more information. All he even knows about the guy is his first name, Theodore, and the fact that he’s a high profile millionaire. The kind that has a huge property, completely away from the rest of society. The kind that has to hire people to act on their sexual deviancy. _Christ_. What kind of sicko is he about to meet?

Rubbing his hands together nervously, Stiles leans forward to ask the driver, “Are we close to the property?”

The driver curtly responds, “We’ve been driving on the property for the last twenty minutes.”

Stiles eyes widen slightly at the revelation. He nods, leaning back into the leather backseats. How big is this place? And when the assistant told him the place was isolated, he didn’t realize she meant hours from any other building or house. No wonder he had to take a car here. It does give him some pause. It means he has no way out if he decides this was a bad idea.

He glances at his cellphone and predictably notices that he has little to no signal. He prays silently that the house at least has wifi.

After another twenty or so minutes of driving, the car pulls to a stop at the side of what has turned into a mainly gravel road. Stiles glances out the window, but sees no house, just a stone path shaded by foliage. He watches hesitantly as the driver steps out, then Stiles follows his lead. As the driver walks around to the trunk Stiles takes note of his surroundings. All he sees are tall pine trees on all sides, and a single gravel road leading back the way they came.

The driver leads him over the path, carrying his single duffle bag for him. It’s weird, Stiles has never had anyone to carry his bag for him. Never had a driver besides an uber, actually. 

The path is long, but straight forward. It leads at last to a metal gate with a sensor on the side. The driver pushes a button that buzzes. After another moment there’s a loud beep and the gate swings open. “I’m scheduled to come back two weeks from today.” The driver tells him, handing him the bag. Stiles takes it, swallowing thickly as the man takes a step backwards, back towards the way the car is. “The house is just through this way. Have a good day, sir.”

Stiles mutters a thank you, for now forgetting how strange it is to be called _sir_ , instead focusing on abating his panic. He watches as the driver leaves before turning back towards the open gate. He takes one last deep breath before walking through. 

Once he walks through the gate promptly locks shut behind him, but he’s too focused on the house in front of him. Well, more like mansion. Surrounded by trees, it’s a tall building, one of those modern ones with giant windows and sleek, stone walls. Stiles slowly approaches the intimidating front door, heart hammering in his chest. 

He shakily goes to knock before noticing a similar looking alarm system in place of a doorbell. He swallows again, pressing a prominent silver button. Unsurprisingly there’s another beep and the door opens by itself. With one last look outside, he steps in. The room is large and open, revealing a living room framed by the beautiful landscape from the floor to ceiling windows. The furniture is as sleek as he expected looking from the outside, white leather against dark wood floors. He notices a glass staircase heading up in the middle of the room. 

Stiles takes a look around, hands anxiously gripping his bag like a lifeline. The sound of the door shutting behind him makes him jump. It feels like he’s officially stuck here, with no way out if this guy turns out to be some weirdo. Which he probably will be, because who the hell lives in a place like this?

Speaking of which, Stiles glances around, looking for any sign of life throughout the eerily quiet house. He hears noise coming from further inside, a blender he thinks, so he slowly follows it, cautiously stepping in further. The noise turns out to be coming from the kitchen, where he finds who he assumes to be Theodore, facing away from him towards the counter. He turns when he hears Stiles enter, and Stiles finally gets to put a face to the name. 

Stiles is momentarily struck by how _normal_ he looks. He’s not some old creep at all, in fact he looks no older than Stiles, with sandy blonde hair and a tan. The open toothed smile that appears when he spots Stiles is warm, casual. Stiles glances down for just a moment, takes note of his appearance. The sweater he has on is just tight enough to reveal his fit figure but not necessarily tight enough to show it off. Everything about him screams confidence in himself, but not cockiness. All of it just makes him wonder why he needed to pay somebody to have sex when he can clearly get anyone he wants.

Stiles snaps his eyes back to his face just in time for him to say, “You must be Stiles.” His grin remains as he turns the blender off behind him. 

Stiles’ brows raise slightly. “And you’re Theodore?” He finds himself asking, though he’s pretty sure he knows.

He huffs out a laugh. “You don’t need to be so formal, call me Theo.” He takes a bottle from the counter and starts unscrewing the lid, “I wasn’t sure when to expect you, I would’ve made some lunch or something,” he starts pouring whatever green substance he has in his blender into the bottle, asking, “Do you want some of my protein shake?”

Stiles hasn’t moved from where he’s standing, still awkwardly holding his bag in front of him. Almost like a shield. Though it doesn’t seem like he has much to shield himself from, not when Theo seems so nonchalant about this whole thing. “Um, I’m good.” He mutters, feeling slightly too sick to think about food.

Theo shrugs, taking a sip. “Just as well,” he says, “It has kale in it, it tastes terrible.”

Stiles swallows, shifting on the balls of his feet, glancing out the window. The kitchen has a view of a lake among the trees, right behind the island counter. 

He’s forced to look back to Theo when he lets out a small laugh. Stiles snaps his gaze back to him, eyes widening slightly. Theo smiles, saying, “You look like a scared little rabbit.” He comments wryly. Stiles lets out a small breath, as Theo laughs again, continuing, “You don’t have to be so nervous.”

Stiles shakes his head slightly, taking in a sharp breath. “I’m not,” he lies. He doesn’t _exactly_ appreciate being compared to a helpless woodland creature within seconds of meeting someone, but he’ll let that slide. He runs a hand over his face, correcting his lie, “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Theo’s grin doesn’t fade. “I get it.” He assures him, leaning against the counter behind him, “This isn’t exactly...” he gestures around, “ _Normal_.” He lands on. He shrugs again, saying, “But you don’t need to feel uncomfortable. I don’t bite, I promise.” He ends with a playful smirk. 

Stiles tries to relax a bit, but it’s sort of difficult under the circumstances. Theo puts his drink back onto the counters, stepping away and saying, “Let me show you around a bit, show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Stiles follows him through the house, past the living room and dining room and down a long hall. Stiles taps his fingers against his bag, gaining the courage to ask, “So you live out here alone? So far away from- well, _anything_.” 

Theo huffs out a laugh, answering, “I know, it’s pretty isolated. I only live out here for a couple months at time,” he glances back and when he sees Stiles cock a brow he explains minimally, “I do work out here.” 

Stiles furrows his brows, but doesn’t get a chance to ask what kind of work he does before they come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall. “This will be your room,” Theo says, opening the door and gesturing for Stiles to step in. He does, and Theo follows behind, still telling him, “There’s a bathroom through there,” he points to a door on the east wall, “Bed, dresser. You’re free to put your clothes in there if you want.”

Stiles drops his bags unto the queen sized bed, taking stock of the room. It’s relatively big, though the tall windows throughout the rest of the house are replaced by windows at the top of the wall. The kind that give the room some light, but can’t be looked out of. The rest of the room is plainly decorated, a dresser, a bed, a bedside table. There’s what looks to be some sort of intercom system by the door. 

Stiles is honestly a little surprised by it all. He doesn’t know why, he figured he’d have to sleep in bed with Theo. It’s a relief, that he has his own space. Though, he’s not sure when the actual _job_ part of this is supposed to start. Avoiding looking at Theo, he glances towards the dresser and notices a sheet of paper on top of it.

As he walks over to it, Theo says, “Right,” he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, props his body up from behind with his hands, “There’s just a little more paperwork for you to sign.”

Stiles picks up the paper, scans it. “I already signed the NDA.” He says, having had to sign it with Theo’s assistant when he agreed to do this, along with a contract that assured him he at least wouldn’t be murdered up here and would definitely get paid by the end of it.

“I know,” Theo says, “This is more of an...” he looks up, thinking for a moment, “ _Overview_ , of what to expect. It’s a formality, so you know exactly what you’re getting into.” Stiles begins to read the document as Theo says, “I would’ve had you sign it with Tracy, but there are certain things I like to keep private.”

As Stiles reads on he knows exactly what this document is. It’s everything Theo wants to do to him over the next two weeks. He’d known the general details, was warned that things wouldn’t exactly be conventional. But having it all listed in front of him is slightly intimidating. Hair pulling, choking, bruises. _Devices_. It’s to make sure he doesn’t sue if he gets too injured, if things go too far. And suddenly the thought of things going too far are a very pressing thought in Stiles’ mind. He glances back at Theo cautiously. “Should I have a lawyer?”

Theo chuckles. “I get it, it sounds like a lot. It’s just to cover all our bases.” He answers nonchalantly. “You don’t _have_ to sign. If it’s too much for you I can call another car.” He shrugs, adding, “But, obviously you won’t get paid then.”

Stiles swallows thickly. He reminds himself why he’s doing this. He knew the sex would be bizarre, he knew that. This is about getting paid, getting enough money to pay off his dad’s bills. He picks up the pen laid next to the paper. “Could I, uh, get a copy of this for myself?” He asks.

“I already left one in the top drawer.” Theo responds back knowingly. 

Stiles nods, and finally signs his name on the dotted line, agreeing to everything written on the list. Theo stands, clapping his hands together. “Great.” He takes the paper when Stiles hands it to him, casually folding it in half. “I’ll let you get settled in while I finish up some work.” He walks over to the door, stops to say, “I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

“Okay.” Stiles says, trying to keep the slightly puzzled tone out of his voice. Theo shoots him one last friendly look before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Stiles lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as soon as he’s alone, though is still confused as to what exactly just happened. He sort of expected everything to start right away. Seems like he was wrong about a lot of his preconceived ideas about how these two weeks would go. 

He turns to his bag, opens it to begin unpacking. He brought his normal clothes, nothing particularly revealing. He’d asked Tracy what he should bring, if he should do anything to prepare. She had told him that Theo wanted him exactly how he was. That still doesn’t make much sense to him, but he had listened and came how he always is. Hopefully Theo’s into plaid and jeans, because that’s most of his wardrobe. 

The whole thing had been strange from the beginning, the ‘come as yourself’ thing only adding to it. Why _him_ , exactly? Someone who’s never done anything like this before, average in nearly every way. The whole thing’s even stranger now that he’s met the guy. He finds himself wondering again why a guy like Theo would need to pay for something like this. That must mean his seemingly normal exterior is a front. It does very little to ease his anxiety. _I don’t bite_ his ass, the document he just signed specifically warned there might be biting.

When Stiles finishes packing his clothes into the dresser, he checks his phone again. He frowns when he finds he still has no signal, and no wifi to connect to.

He finds himself suddenly curious what kind of work Theo does here with no wifi. He was pretty short on details when he’d told him, maybe that NDA he signed was about more than just the sex. 

Regardless, he shuts his phone off and tosses it onto the bed, leaning back himself until his head is touching the mattress. What the hell did he get himself into?

Not knowing what else he’s supposed to do, he spends the next couple of hours in his room until Theo uses the intercom to let him know there’s food if he’s hungry. And being that he hasn’t eaten today out of anxiety, he is pretty hungry. Not any less anxious, but hungry all the same.

In fact, his nerves have only seemed to grow since Theo left him to his own devices. He thought actually starting would be nerve-racking, turns out waiting is far worse. Even as he steps into the open dining room, adorned with two plates of some kind of chicken dish, he finds himself wishing the formalities would just end already so he can just get the initial awkwardness over with. 

“I’m gonna apologize in advance.” Theo says, coming in from the kitchen holding a bottle of wine. As he places it onto the table he explains, “I never actually subject anyone else to my cooking.” Stiles huffs out a laugh, taking a seat across from Theo. “Do you drink?” Theo asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Uh, yeah, sometimes.” Stiles answers. He generally doesn’t drink actually, not having any time to, but with the current circumstances he could use a nerve reliever. He watches Theo pour him a glass, asking, “So you’re really all alone up here? No cooks or staff or anything?” With the size and grandeur of this place it seems pretty likely there would be some wait staff hanging around.

Theo takes a seat, answering, “I work better with quiet. Plus, the work I do is pretty,” he tilts his head, “Well, _private_.” He folds his hands together, “So I stay up here for six months at a time. I get sent groceries once a month, enough for some hot meals. But besides that,” he smirks at him, “It’s just us.”

Stiles raises his brows, but turns to his food instead. Like that’s not slightly panic inducing. Part of him thinks Theo knows what he’s doing. He takes a bite of his food anyways, glancing up to see Theo doing the same. He swallows, asking, “Is there any wifi up here? I haven’t been getting a signal.”

“Sorry about that,” Theo answers, taking a sip of his wine, “It’s really spotty,” he rolls his eyes, like he’s had this problem before, “You can try again tonight, it might be working then. If not, there’s a landline if you need to make any calls.”

“Oh, fantastic,” he murmurs with a sarcastic edge to his tone. He decides to distract himself from thoughts of being completely stranded up here without any contact to the outside world by asking, “What kind of work do you do here?”

Theo glances up from his plate like he hadn’t expected to be asked that. He clears his throat, quickly regaining composure and answering in a lack luster way, “I’m a molecular biologist.”

Stiles raises his brows in surprise. “Woah,” He says.

Theo snorts a laugh. “It’s not as exciting as it sounds.” He assures him, “It’s mostly research. _A lot_ of research.”

Stiles nods, a million questions about this new piece of information forming in his head. He doesn’t ask any of them, instead poking at his food, appetite lost again. He only looks back up when he feels eyes on him. He finds Theo watching him, hands raised together in front of him. Stiles’ eyes widen slightly in question. “What?” He asks.

Theo doesn’t avert his gaze, leaning forward to say, “You look like you really want to ask me something,” he tilts his head, “And not about what I do up here.” Stiles lets out a sigh as Theo laughs, saying, “Go ahead, ask me.”

It’s almost like he can read his thoughts. Or maybe Stiles is being really obvious about his feelings. Either way, Stiles asks, “When will- why haven’t we... you know?” He can feels his cheeks getting pink as he struggles to verbalize his thoughts. 

Theo doesn’t seem to mind, as he continues to stare at him knowingly. “Had sex?” He asks casually. Stiles swallows thickly, but still nods. A smile plays at his lips when he says, “You’re wondering why we haven’t had sex yet, because you assumed you’d be getting fucked for two weeks straight?”

Stiles must be bright red by now, at how Theo’s talking like he’s discussing the weather. He tries to ignore it, saying truthfully, “...Maybe.”

Theo’s grin returns in full force. “Two weeks is a long time,” he explains, leaning back in his seat, “Let’s take things slow. See what happens.” Stiles shifts in his seat, furrowing his brows. “Unless you wanted to get fucked for two weeks straight?” Theo asks cheekily, tilting his head again, “Because, honestly, I don’t know if I have that much energy.”

Stiles huffs out a short breath, answering, “No, no, your way’s definitely better.” 

Theo laughs again, saying, “Okay, good.” He looks him over once before asking, “Now that that’s out of the way, will you relax a little bit? You’re making _me_ nervous.” 

Stiles lets out a laugh, feeling some of his nerves sink away just a bit. “Yeah,” he concedes, taking his first sip of his wine, “Sorry. You’re just kind of...” he searches for the right word, “I mean, this whole thing is sort of terrifying, so you’re like-“

“Terrifying?” Theo questions with a surprised laugh.

“No, no, that’s not-“ he mentally slaps himself, trying his best to explain, “You’re kind of intimidating.” He lands on. Theo still cocks to his head to the side, seemingly amused. Stiles sighs, clarifying, “But you’re not really... I don’t know, who I thought you’d be. Did any of that make sense?”

Theo nods. “I know what you’re trying to say. You thought I’d be some freak?” Stiles hesitantly nods. Theo shoots him an understanding look. “Hopefully you still don’t think that?”

Stiles quickly shakes his head. Theo’s not anything like he thought, he’s beyond charming. Almost too charming. “Jesus, doing this is sort of a gamble for you too, right? I mean, what if you end up getting annoyed by me a week in?” He rambles on. At this right, he might get annoyed with him after just one night

Theo’s smirk doesn’t go away, but his stare gets slightly more intense than before. He stares for so long that Stiles starts tapping his fingers anxiously against his glass, wondering whether or not he should’ve said that. “Tracy knows my type pretty well.” He finally decides on, giving him another once over.

Stiles can’t stop his brows from raising. “I’m your type?” He asks. He doesn’t think he’s ever been anyone’s type before. 

His smirk only widens. “I think you’re exactly my type.”

Stiles watches him, thinks the statement over in his head. It feels like there’s a lot of implications that come with it, too many to go into at the moment. So instead, Stiles takes another bite of his food. 

“How is it?” Theo questions, clearly ready to change the subject, “Be honest.”

Stiles swallows his last bite, twirling his fork in his hand. “It’s definitely... cooked.” He hesitantly jokes.

He’s rewarded by Theo’s big smile. He lets out a laugh, pointing at him with the tip of his fork, “Mm, I think I like you.” 

After dinner Theo offers to walk him back to his room. And despite their conversation, Stiles is still sort of expecting _something_. 

But apparently Theo’s staying true to his word of seeing what happens, because when they reach his room Theo makes no move to come in. “I’m sure you’ve noticed you have a private bathroom.” Theo says, leaning against the door frame, continuing to explain, “Living room and kitchen are down the hall, help yourself to anything.”

Stiles nods slightly, hands fidgeting uncomfortably at his sides. Theo continues, “Obviously you’re welcome to go to bed whenever you feel like it, but I’m sort of an early riser, so I’ll probably be passed out in an hour.” He crosses his arms over his chest casually, nods towards the end of the hallway, “But my rooms the last door if you need anything.” 

After a beat of silence Theo takes stock of him, then asks, “You gonna be okay?” 

Stiles swallows, quickly nods. “I’m good. _Great_ , actually.” He lies. 

It’s almost like Theo can tell it’s a lie. He grins, but nods anyways. “Good.” He looks him up and down once more, before landing back on his eyes. “Goodnight Stiles.”

“Night.” Stiles says back, watching as Theo backs up from the doorway and then turns to walk away. Stiles is half tempted to poke his head out, watch him go, but refrains. Instead he closes his door, letting out a deep breath the moment he’s alone again.

He wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when he came here, but he can say for certain that it wasn’t _this_. A guy his age, attractive, charming. Not immediately attempting to undress him. 

It makes him wonder a lot of things. The NDA might’ve been about him revealing anything about Theo’s identity, or not he pays for sex, but maybe it’s really about that list of things he made Stiles sign. Stiles read it over again when he was alone earlier, tried not to chicken out immediately afterwards. But Theo wants to do _things_ to him, despite how casually he’s been playing this whole thing off. 

Makes him wonder what else Theo’s hiding. If he were actually as normal as he appears he wouldn’t need to pay someone to be here. 

Stiles tries to shake his nerves, walking over to his bed for the next two weeks. He’s staying to get paid, no matter what, he’s already decided that. And he knew what he was signing up for, didn’t he? No reason to sike himself out now, especially because he may just he paranoid. Theo seems perfectly normal, Stiles shouldn’t read anymore into it. Lots of people are into weird sex, it doesn’t make them all secret psychopaths, does it?

Stiles flops down on the bed, letting his eyes fall shut. He reminds himself once again why it is he’s here. It’s not _for_ him, it’s for his dad. Two weeks isn’t that long. He can make it.

He can make it.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment!


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